


what's in the woods? (just thomas and minho)

by Phoenix_Allura (Artemis_Autumn_Marie)



Series: Nix's Thominho Week 2019 [7]
Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: (that sounds bad but i mean it in a good way!), ...you know what i mean so i'm going to stop now, Camping, Cuddles, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, More comfort than hurt, Oh wait, POV Alternating, Pain, Teasing, This is a fun fic, Thominho Week, Thominho Week 2019, and then I was like, anyway back to actual tags, ends with implied sex, i guess, i had fun writing it, i think, it's really open to interpretation, so read it, someone pointed it out to me, tell me how much you screamed, the woods - Freeform, there's a river involved, this is making me scream and i wrote it, thominho - Freeform, yeah i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-08-13 22:08:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20181499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemis_Autumn_Marie/pseuds/Phoenix_Allura
Summary: Okay this was so much fun to write, everyone, just want to let you all know that.Thomas and Minho have been in Paradise for almost a year, and they are struggling with memories.So they decide to take a break from society for a while, and head to the woods to camp.





	what's in the woods? (just thomas and minho)

**Author's Note:**

> My installation for this year's Thominho Week, only a month and two days late! I'm really sorry about that part, but life got in the way.

Thomas pressed a hand to the bruising on his side--it was really starting to hurt now.  
"You good, shank?" Minho asked.  
"Just remembering." They'd been here for nearly a year, and Thomas couldn't seem to forget.  
"He asked, Thomas, it was his decision. He would have done it himself if you didn't." Minho always knew what he was thinking about.  
"There are days when I understand it and days when I wish he'd never asked," Thomas admitted.  
"I know," Minho smiled, soft and sad. "We'll work through it together, the way we always have. Now tell me why you're holding your side." That smile was contrasted by Minho's sharpening tone.  
"I went hunting with Gally," Thomas didn't need to look at Minho to know he was rolling his eyes, "And we found that cliff I took you to yesterday."  
"Yes, I know."  
"We found it because I almost fell off of it." Thomas exhaled slowly; Minho did not look pleased with this news.  
"What the shuck, Thomas! This is something you mention when you get back, right away, it's the first thing you say! You don't wait until three days later!"  
"It only started really hurting today," Thomas excused himself.  
"You fell off a cliff, Thomas, that is something you mention." Minho's brow was pulled together, his lips were tight, and his eyes were worried.  
"It's just a little bruise, Minho, I'm fine, really." Thomas didn't even fool himself.  
"Let me look at it, Thomas. Please."  
"In our cabin, then," Thomas said, as though Minho would make him take his shirt off in front of the whole of Paradise.  
"Come on." Minho reached out and laced their fingers tightly. "I want you to promise that you'll at least tell me when you have anything worse than a papercut."  
"I will, Minho," Thomas kissed his cheek. "As long as you promise the same. Don't think I hadn't noticed the cut on your leg." They both knew why they hadn't said anything, particularly this time of year. In their cabin, Thomas climbed the ladder to their bedroom first, as always (routine was as important here as it had been in the Glade), and pulled his shirt off as Minho closed the trapdoor.  
"Thomas..." He knew the bruising looked bad: lower ribs, right side, and back. "You don't get that from almost falling off a cliff." He had rope burn across his upper chest and back. They'd known there was a drop, so he and Gally had tied themselves together and then to a tree.  
"Gally hauled me back up, I might have hit the side a few times." Thomas shrugged, unable to hide his wince. "But I got my feet under me and managed to climb up." Minho pressed his hand against the worst of the bruising and Thomas flinched away.  
"Sorry." Minho went to grab the medkit required in all cabins. "Maybe we need a break, huh? We could take a few days, go camping by that river."  
"That sounds nice." A break from people, from being in charge? Thomas would take it. "Things are stable enough now that we could ask someone else to help out, and there are people who would step up while we're gone." Thomas stood still as Minho rubbed the cream onto his side.

"Yeah, go for it," They'd ended up asking Jorge for permission as opposed to the other teenage leaders. "I don't think you've had a day off all year between the two of you, hermanos. Enjoy yourselves."  
They started packing that day. They didn't need much: A few changes of clothes, some soap, and hunting gear. They planned on hunting and trapping most of their food. It was normal now, anyway.  
And they didn't have enough grown food sources yet to take too much of anything with them.

They slipped out quietly the next morning; only a few people knew for certain where they were going, and they thought it better that way.  
"No one's going to bother us for a whole week." Thomas sighed, four miles into their trip.  
"No one asking for solutions to problems they could have solved easily," Minho added.  
"No one expecting us to have all the answers."  
"No one acting like us showing any sign of frustration is horrible and off-putting."  
"No one walking around us on eggshells because they're scared what of what we've been taught and what we're going to do." Thomas finished quietly. That had been their first few weeks; they'd been some of their best assets for survival, and yet the adults had acted like they were going blow up and hurt someone because they got upset.  
"It's gonna be nice. If I thought we could live on each other's company alone, I'd suggest moving out here, setting up a new village." Minho glanced around them at the large forest. "We've got another two miles or so until we reach the river."  
"We should. We Gladers were needed a lot at first because we knew how to grow crops and run things, but now we're not so much. It'd be nice, we could get Group A and Group B together and just have our own community."  
"Six miles from the village?"  
"Six miles is what, a two-hour walk? Three at most? We wouldn't be too far apart."  
"I'd give it another couple of years. The village still needs to get its feet under it more. There's a lot we haven't taught them yet." Thomas nodded his agreement; personally, he thought that having just a space for the Gladers, who'd all been through similar stuff, would be great. Maybe some of their trauma would actually be talked about for once instead of just glossed over and their panic attacks taken seriously rather than an inconvenience.  
"Our cabin is pretty isolated as it is--all of ours are, really, being the outer circle." Minho continued.  
"It means that we have our own garden, though, and space to plant a rotating field crop if we want." Thomas grinned at the thought; Frypan had already started his, and it had been kind of fun, tilling and planting the wheat and corn. Where he'd found the seeds Thomas would never know.  
"You really want to grow our own food, don't you?" Thomas shrugged.  
"I think it'd be interesting to try." Minho laughed lightly.  
"We'll try it next spring," Minho promised. "It's too late in the season now." They talked about what they'd like to try growing (Thomas argued for fruit trees and rye; Minho for corn and wheat. They settled on corn and rye the first year, and rotating crops after that. And besides, they didn't have a windbreak. The fruit trees, among others, could be useful for that.)

"Here." Thomas set his bag down. The river was teeming with fish, and there was still enough tree cover that they could set up their tent/lean-to combination. Minho shrugged, smiling slightly.  
"Let's get work setting this up, then." It took close to an hour to finish, but Thomas had to admit they weren't completely focused the whole time.  
"I'll get the fire going, you want to try and get some fish?" Minho asked.  
"Yeah, and tomorrow I'll try making that fish trap Gally showed me." As loathe as he was to admit it, Thomas had to say that he and Gally got along quite well now.  
"Good that."

With dinner roasting over the fire, Minho didn't want to do anything more than cuddle with his boyfriend until they could eat.  
"Cuddle with me, Thomas," Minho fake-pouted, setting Thomas off in a fit of laughter.  
"Of course, shank." Even after all this time, Glader slang still didn't sound right coming from Thomas. Thomas leaned into Minho, staring at the fire. Minho, in turn, was careful where he placed his arms when he tugged Thomas onto his lap.  
"How's the bruise?"  
"It feels fine, Minho." Minho could hear that Thomas was trying to keep annoyance out of his voice. Well, it was his fault, he'd decided to hide an injury. Instead of taking the bait, Minho just hummed in reply and tucked his face into the crook of Thomas's neck.  
"Tired, Minho?" There was an entirely different lilt to Thomas's voice now, amused and playful.  
"Of you? Never," Minho quipped back. "Of walking? Yes." Thomas chuckled.  
"I'm glad to hear it," Thomas leaned his head onto Minho's shoulder, looking up at him.  
"I mean it, Thomas. We're gonna fight but I'm never gonna be tired of you." Minho murmured into his hair. They spent a few more minutes like that, just until the fish were done. Then they sat side by side, shoulders, and thighs touching, while they ate, stealing bites from each other.  
"Minho, stop poking my nose!" Thomas giggled, actually giggled.  
"Nope." Minho grinned at him. "Not doing that." He slipped his hand onto Thomas's plate and stole a piece of fish, only to get three stolen from him for his efforts.  
"If you want my fish so badly, I'm just going to have to feed you." Minho declared, and wrestled Thomas to the ground, straddling his stomach. "Now I can make you eat all the fish, or..." Minho popped a few pieces into his own mouth. "...I can keep it all to myself." Minho leaned down to kiss Thomas and then ate another few pieces.  
"Minho, please, feed me!" Thomas was being shucking dramatic and he knew it. "Don't let me starve, love."  
"Oh, my love, I would feed you the flesh from my bones if it would keep you alive." Minho continued in the same dramatic tone, feeding Thomas a few bites of fish.  
"I would feed you my flesh first, to keep you alive," Thomas muttered through his food, and Minho snorted. Yeah, they were just a couple of dramatic shanks. When the fish was gone, Minho got up, but instead of taking the hand Thomas held out to pull him up, Minho just bent over and scooped Thomas up.  
"Bedtime." He kicked sand over the fire until it went down some as Thomas protested. "Nope, I'm tired and I want to cuddle and I can read right through your lies, Thomas, and I know you didn't sleep as long as you said you did last night. Bedtime." Their lean-to had turned out pretty well, with their 'tent' serving as a roof and a hastily assembled pallet to lay their sleeping bag and blankets on. Thomas squirmed like one of the little kids so Minho set him on his feet  
"Finally. I can walk, Minho." Thomas was still smiling, though, so he knew it was a token protest.  
"Yeah but I like carrying you."  
"I know. Let's cuddle ourselves to sleep, and maybe you can carry me in the morning." Thomas offered, smile going a little shy. It always did.  
"Sounds like a wonderful plan." Minho curled himself around Thomas as they always did, Thomas's head tucked under Minho's chin, legs tangled together, Minho's arm thrown over Thomas's waist, the other over his head so it didn't get squished while they slept.  
"Sleepy now?" Minho whispered.  
"Mm-uhm." Thomas hummed quietly, and Minho breathed out a sigh of relief. Neither of them would have any trouble falling asleep tonight.

Minho woke up first. Thomas was clinging to him like a limpet, trembling slightly, likely from the cold breeze disturbing their blankets. Minho slid out of Thomas's grasp and wedged the blankets more firmly around him. One glance at the sun showed it was around 7:30, maybe 8 at a stretch. He built up the rock walls around the fire--no point in lighting one if it would set them on fire, after all--then worked the fire itself up to a good level. Grabbing his bag, he headed down to the riverbed. They'd seen a berry bush while they were catching fish yesterday.  
Minho wasn't worried about being able to determine if they were safe or not; they'd all had to learn quickly, living here. He picked a blackberry bush with dozens upon dozens of berries, more than enough to last them the week, and that was only the ripe ones. He wasn't going to take them all; they had no way of keeping them fresh. After filling his bag to the top, Minho placed it over his shoulders far more carefully than he had before. It wouldn't do to squish the berries before they got to eat them. When the fire came back into view a few minutes later, Minho had to muffle a laugh. Thomas was wrapped in blankets, staring into the flames.  
"I got us some berries for breakfast." Minho bent over and kissed Thomas when he looked up. "Here." He took off the pack and hand-fed a half-asleep Thomas.  
"You stay here and watch the fire, can't have the wind carrying it away and burning the forest." Minho smiled at him. "I'm going to get us a couple of fish." Minho walked the sixty or so yards back to the river, quickly catching a few fish to go with their berries for breakfast.

Thomas threw a few broken sticks into the fire, glancing back at the lean-to where Minho was sleeping. They'd caught three large rabbits for lunch, and eaten them all, so Thomas had to finish his fish trap or they wouldn't have much for dinner. He'd have to get up and find more logs soon, or they'd run out of firewood. Who knew camping was so much work?  
It was relaxing, though.  
No schedule, no demands, just sleeping and eating when they wanted and lazing around.  
And trying to make a shucking fish trap.  
There!  
Two sides down.  
Two to go. He'd build up the fire first, then get back to work. The wind was still blowing pretty hard, but it wasn't as chilly as it had been. Thomas set up a new tripod in their makeshift firepit and settled back down to work. If he finished this, he could go put it in the river himself and surprise Minho with plenty of fish for dinner and breakfast tomorrow.  
Thomas wondered if they would get sick of eating fish. Even so, he worked on the trap. Now that he had two sides done, it wasn’t so hard to finish the rest. An hour later, and it was ready to go. Minho was still asleep, so Thomas went to try out the trap alone. He climbed up on the riverbank, quite a ways higher than they’d gone before, and set it up, making sure it wouldn’t float down the river. He’d sat there for maybe fifteen minutes before Minho called to him.  
“Thomas? You out here?”  
“Up on the rocks!” He yelled back. “I’m trying out the trap!” Only a few fish had swum in, but he also hadn’t thought to bait it. But it didn’t matter; they couldn’t get out now that they were in. Minho climbed up to join him, still yawning, hair a mess. Thomas grinned to himself. Minho couldn’t know that his hair was messed up--even if Thomas thought it was the cutest thing, Minho hated it with a burning passion.  
“Catching dinner?”  
“Hopefully. We can likely leave it alone now, I don’t think it’s going anywhere.” Thomas remarked, leaning into Minho’s side.  
“How about we check the other traps for more rabbits?” Thomas laughed.  
“I think we should leave those for another day. What do you think about spending the afternoon finding berry bushes?”  
“Well, someone did eat them all this morning…” Minho side-eyed him jokingly.  
“All the reason to pick more.” Thomas grinned up at him, this time, then pulled Minho down the rock and into the forest. “Besides, who says we only have to be picking berries? We have all afternoon, you know.” Minho laughed in the back of his throat.  
“Every once in a while, I like your plans, Greenie.” He breathed into Thomas’s ear. “Let’s go then, shall we?” Thomas pulled Minho in for a kiss in response.  
This was going to be a really fun week.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again! I hope you enjoyed this fic, I certainly did, and please tell me your thoughts! (Also: shameless plug for my ongoing Thominho Week fic from last year: Royalty, the gang as children, A/B/O verse, and arranged marriages that are only arranged in the most technical of terms. It's called suits and swords, and if you head over you can read that and comment on that too! I am in need of motivation.)  
Thanks for reading,  
Phoenix


End file.
